There's a lot an audience doesn't see.Crooked toes. Protruding ribs. Bruised feet.If they did, they'd never watch another ballet again.But there's more they don't see. Things no one ever sees.Pain. Anger. Struggle. Discipline. Failures. Fear.But these are words that have been hammered into Asya's bones until she knew them like her own name, until they had sunk into every part of her being and she understood nothing but ambition, had a taste for nothing but perfection.One other word echoes through her, a distant, soft promise, usually indiscernible, but enticing enough that it lures her deeper into her art every time she hears it calling.Prima.Prima, Asya thinks as she pushes herself off the floor. She pulls her legs into a grand
Roman tossed his car keys to the valet, straightened his collar and headed up the limestone stairs that led to the Royal Opera House. The magnificent building loomed in front of him, lit up to illuminate it against the night sky.It was a megastructure of Victorian architecture and glass windows, home to one of the most elite ballet companies in the world. Legends had graced the stage with their art, icons like Nureyev and Fonteyn featuring in its illustrious three-hundred-year history.The dancer tucked his hands into his pockets as he moved through the crowd in the foyer, nodding politely as he caught the attention of a few patrons. Dressed in a simple white button-down shirt he looked fairly unassuming to most people.But to the critics and seasoned art patrons, he was a famil
The next morning Asya meandered into company class still sipping on her banana breakfast smoothie. She bid a sleepy good morning to her fellow dancers as she made her way to the opposite end of the studio and eased her tutu and ballet bag off her shoulders, setting them down against the wall.Some morning sunshine warmed her usual spot through the circular skylight in the studio's roof, and she blinked lazily into the light as she stripped off her street clothes, hoping it would help wake her up. Dressed only in a leotard and tights she began warming up her body for the day, starting with her neck and back and gradually moving to the rest of her muscles.With a lazy yawn she slid into a straddle split, pushing her hipbones into the floor and reaching her arms forward to intensify the stretch. The last three weeks had been a
Asya sucked in a steadying breath of air as she extended her leg past her shoulder, clenching the muscle in her hip flexor to hold her balance in the tricky extension. She raised her chin to soften her neckline, scanning the long mirrors on the wall in front of her for the Russian dancer she'd met a few minutes ago. She'd lost sight of him when they moved into the center, but had a strange feeling it wasn't the last she would be seeing of him.They finished the first section of center work, and the class split into two groups for jumps and turns to allow for more space on the floor. Still a little out of breath from the développé exercise, Asya retreated to the side of the room to get some water while the first group worked on their turns. She saw Julian approaching her out of the corner of her eye, and shot him a mocking glare as he neared her.
Over the course of the next week Asya had class with Roman on the daily, and the Russian prodigy never ceased to amaze. He turned like a drill bit, defied gravity when he jumped and had mastery over his technique that was nothing short of supernatural.The various resident teachers and instructors had noticed him too. He often stayed after class, and she'd seen him coming out of various studios after hours, although she hadn't noticed him on any castings. The company definitely had plans for him
Asya shut the door behind herself, exhaling heavily and rolling her eyes dramatically.God, he was a pain.After the little episode with Roman, Ivan had been nothing short of bloody childish. Normally she en
Asya fled hastily out of the rehearsal room, hurrying down the busy corridor before she could be cornered by anyone. She honestly wasn't in the mood for either of them. Still stuffing things into her bag she made for the foyer, scanning faces to see if she could find Julian. Him she could tolerate. Maybe they could grab some lunch together in the cafeteria and she could vent a little.Ivan had been a pain during class, as usual. And after last night, Asya found herself unable to look Roman
Asya collapsed gracelessly into the reception hall couch, letting out a dramatic sigh.Finally.Closing her eyes she inhaled the salty scent carried in by a breeze through the open sliding doors and let it settle in her palate.